I'll Be Quitting at the End of the Day
by Letters to Ghosts
Summary: "I just keep going over and over it in my head." (A dark AU one-shot with two endings.)


_A/N: I blame A Star Is Born for this. A dark AU one-shot with two endings._

* * *

**at crossroads**

It's not the kind of message from Rayna I'm used to finding on my machine when I get home after bailing on rehab. No anxious plea for me to call and reassure her I'm alright. No, this time, it's short and to-the-point: _we need to talk_. The message is a couple of days old already since I've made a few stops on my way here.

I ponder putting my boots back on and going to her apartment right away, but I need a good shower, a change, and ideally, a few hours of sleep. I decide to call her instead. She skips the habitual part where she asks if I'm fine, she only reiterates that she really – _really_ – needs to talk to me. I tell her I'll be there in an hour.

I'm still in the bathroom, a towel around my waist, when the bell rings. No one except Rayna knows I'm back, I assume she chose not to wait and drive here herself.

There's a bunch of pills on the side of the sink and a bottle next to it that I just used to wash a few of the pills down. I hide everything and quickly brush my teeth, like there was an actual point, like she didn't already know I'm here because I fucking bailed on rehab again.

I put pants and a shirt on on my way to the door. It's not Rayna I find waiting for me on the landing.

It's Tandy.

There's an awkward silence during which I'm not sure what to say and she's not sure if she should let herself into the apartment or stay where she is. I gesture for her to come in. On our way to the kitchen, I try to remember if the two of us have ever found ourselves in a room together without Rayna before.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. How did she know I would be here is what I'm in fact curious about.

"I was with Rayna when you called," she explains. "She doesn't know I'm here."

"Okay."

Tandy is not one to beat around the bush so I expect the other shoe to drop really soon.

"She's pregnant, it's what she wants to tell you."

I hadn't seen _that_ shoe coming. All of sudden, I wonder if this is real, if I'm truly here or if I'm still passed out somewhere and it's all a dream.

"I've been begging her not to tell you," she admits, "but she won't listen to me."

"Then why are _you_ telling me?" I ask once I've recovered enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Even knowing the baby is yours, Teddy proposed to her. She turned him down, she ended things with him for good." I try not to beam at the news, no matter how much I want to. At what comes next, however, I lose all will to smile. "She still holds onto that insane hope you can change. But you and I, Deacon, we know you won't."

I wish I could take offense at this, I wish I could claim I _will_ change. For our child. _Our child_. I still have trouble processing that first information.

But I keep mute. Because truth is I don't know. And truth is Tandy is probably right.

"She'll never let go of you. She loves you too much for that. So, I'm asking _you_... if you love her, please let her go. Please, I'm begging you, stay out of this baby's life."

If I didn't already know how low I've fallen, this would be some sort of revelatory moment. Tandy, who on her best days tolerates me and on most days hates me guts for having broken her sister's heart more times than I can count, had to resort to come _beg_ me. This is how desperate she is to keep Rayna and the baby away from me.

She turns to leave then, without a word, and I'm relieved because what I am supposed to respond to that. When the door closes behind her, I'm still standing at the same spot I've been standing for the last five minutes.

I want to grab my keys.

I want to head to the door.

I want to go see Rayna. I want to go tell her I _know_ and everything will be alright. I love her. I love her so much. It should be enough.

My legs won't move.

I remember when Scarlett was born. I remember looking at Rayna holding her, I remember fantasizing it could be us one day. I had never dared think about it before, I had never dared hope to someday be able to overcome the trauma of my own childhood, but Rayna Jaymes being in my life made everything sound possible back then.

Now? Now I don't know. Now I don't know anything anymore.

* * *

**road one**

I hear the door creak open before I hear Watty's voice.

"Rayna?"

I don't answer, but he lets himself into the room. Tandy must have called him. She doesn't know what to do to help me or what to say to try to comfort me anymore. I haven't gotten up or eaten since yesterday, I think I've only stopped crying because I'm not _able_ to cry anymore.

I open my eyes to find Watty has moved and is now sitting on the floor next to the bed I'm lying on.

"Ray."

He's the one who always says the best music comes from the darkest places. No music at all will come from this dark place. It's too much. There's no relief to this level of pain. A part of me died with Deacon, and it's the part where the music came from. Our unborn baby is the only thing still keeping me alive.

I slide off the bed to sit on the floor, next to Watty. I draw my legs to my chest, curl my arms around them, my chin resting on my knees.

"I want to be angry at him, I want to _hate_ him for doing this to us, but I just—" I break down, and Watty wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me while I sob. "I just keep... going over and over it in my head."

I had been forced to think about it before, what it would feel like to lose him. There had been close calls and too much time spent in cold waiting rooms.

But it feels worse than anything I could have imagined.

"I can't do this, Watty."

* * *

**road two**

I can't do this. I won't do this.

How did I one second think it was the _right_ thing to do. How did I one second think it was the only way to make sure I would never cause pain to my child.

There is nothing right about this. There is nothing selfless or noble about this. I'm a coward. I look at the gun with sudden horror.

There _is_ a right thing to do, and I know what it is.

The right thing is to call Cole, and check back into rehab. The right thing is to get sober, to stay sober, for good this time. The right thing is to be there for Rayna and the baby, in whatever way she'll deem fit.

I'm still sitting on the couch when Cole arrives.

"I'm not my father," I say.

The gun is on the coffee table and I see him try to quickly assess the situation. He takes it and unloads it before he sits next to me.

"No, you're not. I know that. _Rayna_ knows that. You did the right thing calling me."

We've been here before, more than once, I'm aware of that. But it's different this time. Something switched in me, I can feel it.

"I can do this, Cole."


End file.
